Arctic-ulate Up North

Well autumn is surely upon us and with it, preparations for our next POLAR POETS gig. I'm delighted that our next appearance is in my home territory of Manchester. Come October half-term I'll get a chance to catch up with my sisters in Bolton and perform our show 'Arctic-ulate' with Susan at the Manchester Science Festival. We're in the fabulously Gothic John Rylands Library in Deansgate - the perfect venue for our show. Here's a taster from the festival website:


Get Arctic-ulate in this multi-media show that interweaves poetry, performance, music and images. It explores the science and heritage of the Arctic landscape, from ice-melt and the aurora borealis to indigenous peoples and European explorers. Devised and performed by the Polar Poets, it also highlights the fragility of the Arctic at a time of climate change and increasing industrialisation.

Check it out on their website at:
http://www.manchestersciencefestival.com/whatson/arcticulate

Our show is free though requires booking and is open to adults/ teenagers. It's part of this lively science festival with over 200 events for all ages, including 'walks, talks, workshops, shows, comedy, exhibitions and more all in the name of science'. If you're in the area that week, you might also want to catch the Manchester Literature Festival 14th - 25th October which this year, curiously enough, has a science theme!

Arctic-ulating in Wrexham

So many stories, so little time. And in the steamy heat of a midsummer evening in Wrexham, we were conjuring an icy landscape – quite unable to don our usual costume of woolly hats and jacket! Susan and I were performing our brand new show, Arctic-ulate to an audience of science fans at Wrexham Science Festival. As time ran short, we were ditching poems and photos like desperate ice-trekkers trying to make the last mile. And as we moved through the plight of Inuits, polar bears and penguins facing pollution or possible extinction, the university's PC quietly shut itself down, the projector light faded and our 'Last Legend' was delivered appropriately enough in semi-gloom.

We were blessed with the intimate setting of a lecture theatre and an intelligent, responsive audience who were keen to ask questions and stay around to chat. They warmed to Susan's portrayal of the feisty Viking woman Gudrid, 'the world's most traveled woman' in her time. And they proved to be enthusiastic frost giants and football warriors when called on to participate in my Firebridge and Auroral Football poems. Later the questions and discussions focused particularly on how indigenous arctic peoples cope with the impact of westernisation and the pollution of their environment. Here's some of their feedback on our debut show:

'You two are so intelligent – you make me proud to be a woman!'

'There's so much work gone into this show – it was brilliant!'

'As a bit of a polar buff, this was right up my street. Really interesting.'

'I've always wanted to see the Northern Lights so the images were wonderful.'

This morning Susan and I got a chance to see around the rest of the Wrexham Science Festival on their Scientriffic day for families. There were wonderful interactive displays and activities for kids all over the campus. We saw children petting owls – amazingly calm creatures. There were the bugs courtesy of the Mountain Zoo. (We're also grateful to them for that side-splitting story of what happened when one of their attendants, dressed in a husky dog outfit, was mobbed by 400 brownies !) And at another stand we were blown away by pictures of 'star-dust clouds' in outer space and a narrative that took in the greatest mystery of all – what is the 'spark' that first gives rise to life on a planet? Great inspiration for a poet.

We were sorry to be missing upcoming events at the festival, such as 'Appleton: Discoverer of the Ionosphere', (Mon.5th July), 'Standing up for Nature' ( Tues 6th), 'Weathering Solar Storms' (Thurs. 8th) and 'Living Inside the Wolf Pack'. These were just some of the events which linked to our own interests but there are dozens of events to choose from all week. So all in all, great fun to do, lovely audience and a very positive debut for Artic-ulate. We're grateful to Katie, Andy and the team who looked after us, including Liam, our 'gofer' who took these nifty pictures for us. Have a great week, guys!

Notes from an Expedition: Cardiff

So here I am on a blazing June morning, standing before the Captain Scott sculpture by the Norwegian Church on Cardiff Bay. Scott, because this is where he set off on his ill-fated Antarctica expedition from. Can you see the faces of his men carved into the white mosaic? Cardiff because I'm here to meet up with Polar Poet Susan Richardson for a rehearsal of our new show Artic-ulate. The Norwegian church is a nice reminder of my own first trip to Arctic Norway to see the Northern Lights, back in December 2007. But on this particular morning, after a trek back from the bay, we were glad to escape the searing heat by diving into the arctic cool of John Lewis' store!

It was very exciting for Susan and I to get together since so much of our collaboration has been on-line. Inevitably, with me in Leicester and Susan in Cardiff. But with our first Polar Poets' gig coming up at the Wrexham Science Festival next week, there's no substitute for pacing round her sitting-room, practising our set. I'm happy to report that by the end of the day we'd identified all the themes and poems we wanted to cover, tried out some we'll perform together and swapped images to go with the words. It's shaping up. Now to brush up in front of the wardrobe mirror and gather powerpoint, music, props and woolly hats into our luggage. As Scott could tell you, good preparation is everything. And hopefully, the Polar Poets will return in one piece!

I can also report the Welsh cakes Susan served up were delicious and a breezy Water Taxi round the Bay was a wonderful end to our day out. Here's the details for our Wrexham gig:

Siobhan Logan and Susan Richardson, the Polar Poets, will be presenting their show Arctic-ulate as part of the festival's EARTH AND THE UNIVERSE theme. The Polar Poets use poetry, storytelling and multi-media performance to evoke the unique appeal of one of the planet's last great wildernesses. Having experienced this landscape first-hand, they explore the heritage of the Arctic from indigenous peoples and Viking women to European explorers. Their show also highlights the fragility of this landscape at a time of climate change.

Organisers say Wrexham Science Festival 2010 'promises to be more spectacular than ever before. The programme ... is packed with a diverse mix of events ... to encourage the investigation and enjoyment of science and technology.'

Arctic-ulate
Friday 2nd July
7.30pm, Glyndŵr University, Plas Coch Site, Wrexham
This event is free and aimed at adults aged 16+.
For bookings call 01978 293466 or email wsf@glyndwr.ac.uk
www.wrexhamsf.com/en/

Iceland: Sagas, Snow & Steam

So in the middle of our recent heatwave - too much already! - I've been reading the wonderful Laxdaela saga about Gudrun Osviksdottir and reliving the big chill of our Easter trip to Iceland. Here's another extract from my travelblog - prepare to shiver!

Tuesday April 6th

This morning all colours are muffled by the snow drifting across the road. Further east and north, there have been avalanches and schools closed, Bragi says. Outside the bus, black lava pokes through a white landscape. Yellow grasses quiver into the wind. On the heights, mist is smothering the ridges - or it might be snow pouring down gullies. The sky is tearing hanks of grey cloud, a milky light curdling in the gaps beyond.

Bragi reveals that Iceland's tradition of poetry and storytelling is very much alive and thriving with poetry clubs and radio/TV competitions. The tight forms and highly symbolic language of the original sagas are still used, as well as more modern forms. And I'm delighted that our first destination today is Reykholt, the home of Snorri Sturlson, a landmark figure in medieval Icelandic literature. Sturlson penned the famous Prose Edda which recount the doings of the Norse gods as well as Icelandic settlers and several sagas, including one about his ancestor, the warrior-poet, Egil Skallagrimsson. Sturlson was a poet himself and canny politician but when he double-crossed the King of Norway, he was hacked to death in his own cellar at Reykholt. Should have stuck to the pen perhaps ...

Next stop was Hraunfossar, a truly spectacular series of waterfalls that seem to stretch for miles. The wind had dropped at last and the landscape was etched in black rocks, white snow and the piercing blue of the waterfalls and river below. Photographs cannot convey the thundering gush of the water or the creaking of the snow underfoot but you can see we were lucky to catch this place in its wintry colours. It was blistering cold with great ice splinters hanging from the waterfall but we could hardly tear ourselves away.

Back at the Foss Hotel, we were treated to a delicious buffet lunch of home-made soups & breads, salads, coffee and fruit. The sweet tomatoey bread was studded with lumps of salt and the tomato soup was flavoured with chips of aniseed - heavenly. This was typical of the fresh produce we encountered for lunches. We ate till we burst. Bragi was telling us how the local greenhouses were heated by the bubbling hot springs of nearby Deildartunguhver which pumps out water of 97 degrees centigrade and is piped to towns over 60 km away.

The snowy morning at Hraunfossar had been utterly magical. But this was the land of fire as well as ice - and the afternoon was to bring us to the great valley of Thingvellir and the continental rift that runs through Iceland. But that's a whole other story, that place ...

Pilgrim's Progress In Iceland

So the saga of our recent trip to the volcanic isle - between eruptions! - continues:

Day 2 Easter Monday: Snaefellnesnes Peninsula

Were we something like Chaucer's Pilgrims, a gathering of 10 strangers come together for an April journey? Or maybe Tolkien's Fellowship – he was after all inspired by those Norse myths. And certainly we had our own kindly wizard of the roads in Bragi Ragnarsson on a package tour entitled 'Iceland with an Expert'. With a gravelly Icelandic voice and easy manner, he settled into the driving seat of our mini-bus, delivering a stream of patter that took in socio-economic trends of modern Iceland (60% of its population living around the capital city), geological facts, Viking history and ancient legends of the landscape.

In a country where stories flow like lava (the highest no. of published authors per capita), he regaled us with tales of laughing mermen, exploding whales and Viking gangster-poets. At the roadside, he pointed out boulders painted with tiny doors and windows to mark the homes of the Hidden People. And Bragi also broke into a snatch of traditional Icelandic singing, a nasal chanting very like the Saami joiku in sound.

How could we not then be predisposed to the poetry of the place? On a windswept, isolated beach, the tiny Budir church was a black stub against a distant ice-capped mountain range. And these arctic winds were ferocious, battering us to the ground as soon as we emerged. Fingers froze instantly as I tried to fumble with the camera – not even the sand-dunes or craggy brown rocks offered shelter. At Arnarstapi, we stumbled along the cliff walk, amazed by the basalt sea-stacks and black promontories, stark against a deep blue sea. Further along this coast, we tumbled out onto the pebbly beach of Djupalonssandur where white surf tore over black shingle and sand.

Blue, black and brown were the day's colours. Then the vivid orange of rusted metal – remnants of a Grimsby trawler cast by tides across the lava-field, its orange shapes drawing the eye to an even stranger sight – a frozen mass of river that flowed down from the great Snaefellsnes glacier. Here at its edge, where it had frothed into nothing and frozen in an instant, I picked up glassy wafers, striated and fragile. Beyond thick shelves of ice layered one on another and swirls of blue, grey-green and brown stirred into the white.

Even on the bus, we were mesmerised by the sight of water frozen into giant splinters, often blue, spilling down the brown gorges and gullies, a world fastened tight by the spell of ice. As we rolled into Grundarfjordur, thick fat snowflakes bobbed against the windscreen, giving a promise of the morrow's weather. In a room overlooked by the fish-processing factory and white mountains, we were lulled to sleep by howling windsong.

Iceland Before the Ash

So after the pop divas and dodgy bankers, now we know it as the place that shut down half the world's planes. In recent days we've had a powerful reminder of the geological phenomenon that is Iceland. In fact, up till last Wednesday, tour operators were still flying people in for special 'Volcano Holidays' to witness 'the raw power of nature'. This Easter, between eruptions, I got to visit this amazing sub-arctic country and here's the opening of my journey's weblog:

Day One: Easter Sunday Kevlavik

They should have called it Brown-land. A disappointed Viking, stumbling across a giant frozen fjord, named this place Iceland. But coming in from the air, all we could see was a flattened landscape in rusty browns, dusty yellows; so many craters and volcanic cones and even the still-smoking eruption off in the distance. No trees, hardly any houses, and in the centre a brown nothingness to lose yourself in.

Soon we're driving through this volcanic landscape. Some frost-giant has fly-tipped a truck-load of debris – ash and lava and rubble – and it's fallen any old way. Toppling cairns and strange sculptures of black tufa rise up, clumpy rocks smothered in grey lichens and mosses. And at the rim of this flattened wasteland are peaks bare of vegetation, dusty as lunar ridges in colours of iron that got wet.

At the nearby Blue Lagoon, spa, we negotiate communal changing rooms to tumble into the blue-milky waters of this man-made lagoon. Chattering with the season's tourists, it is astoundingly warm and pleasant to sit in the open-air which we know must be icy, surrounded by those rusted-iron hills. Weird and wonderful, exactly as promised. We come out crusted with minerals like the rocks arranged around those milky pools. Not great for the hair but Icelanders reckon it's a tonic for the skin.

And if that was not enough, on our first evening in Iceland, the beautiful Northern Lights Inn lived up to its name. As darkness fell around 10 o'clock, we climbed into the observatory tower and it was like someone had thrown a switch. The aurora borealis snapped into view – ghostly green whirlpools coiling and slithering across the heavens. Up in the Sky-land, a reindeer herder was lassoing the stars, throwing out ropes of colour that brightened and vanished. I thought of all those mythic forms as it morphed from a 'bridge of fire' to a swan snagged in ice to the Merrie Dancers and warriors kicking a spectral football.

For a time then, there seemed to be a lull in the show. But when we donned layers and braved the balcony, we could see a haze of sun-dust smothering the stars in drifts. When it thickened the aurora was not as vivid in colour but far more dynamic in its movement. Suddenly we were seeing great swathes of this dusky light undulating in quick pulses ever-higher. I felt then we really were watching the magnetosphere 'twang and buckle' and the freezing arctic wind seemed to give an echo to the solar winds roaring silently behind this display. Like pebbles caught a great cosmic stream, we watched it funneling light in from space, the veil of the earth's ionosphere folding and rippling before our eyes.

At midnight when we retreated shuddering with cold, the aurora was still playing itself out. We'd only been in Iceland for half-a-day. Could the next three days possibly live up to what we'd already experienced in this other-worldly place?

Polar Poets at Wrexham

Get this - the first ever Polar Poets gig is now booked!

We will appear at the Wrexham Science Festival in North Wales at 7.30pm on Friday 2nd July. If you're in that part of the world, do come and see us!

The Wrexham Festival is designed to make science accessible and exciting to all ages. Organisers want it to be “the highlight of the early summer calendar ... to have a fresh feel and encourage us all to investigate, enjoy, learn and re-think our ideas about science and technology."





Our Polar Poet event will address the Earth & the Universe theme and here's a flavour of what we'll offer:

Arctic-ulate is a multi-media show that interweaves poetry, storytelling, performance, monologue, music and Powerpoint images. It evokes the unique appeal of the Arctic, one of the planet’s last great wildernesses, and explores the science and heritage of this landscape, from ice-melt and the aurora borealis to indigenous peoples and European explorers.

Devised and performed by the Polar Poets, Siobhan Logan and Susan Richardson, it also highlights the fragility of the Arctic at a time of climate change and increasing industrialisation. We aim to entertain, to cast word spells, but also to encourage people to reflect on some of the most pressing environmental issues of our time.

So now we get to do the fun bit - organise a meet-up and start doing some rehearsing. Think polar skies and penguins, Saami music and saris, solar dust and Scott's Antarctic trek ... So many stories and images and sciencey bits - and now we get to play two voices off each other. I can't wait to start working on this new show, Arctic-ulate.

Watch this space to see how it's shaping up ...